Tuesday, 28 November 2017

A Girl Made of Shapes Rattles on the Bridge

She wears a dress all thin,From the house of knife-thrower.
Any beneficial daggers
Keep miss, miss, missing,
In pissing rain, just
The whip-crack sound is left.
As if a coin-shaped button or two
Could shield the river's breath.

Frailty doubled, by waxy
Moustached must-dash
Supposed strong men.
Passing shots in a game of
Set and match-match-macho.
But, it's a thumbs down from
Public balcony above cold
Concrete coloured colluseum.

No longer lashed by
Steel rope to the crow's nest,
A steely glare fixes on
Her young face's crow's feet.
Bitter wind, bitter wind, better end.
The audience gathers in suspension.
She gathers herself off kilter.

This pale black ring-mistress
Stands tall with empty hat.
The fat seals clap in judgement
Our straight ten acrobat.
Seahorse cantering waters
'neath cantilevered crew.
She backs away, away she
back flips.

Anonymous splash in wavy capitals
As tourists snap to remember
She stops breathing to forget
The deathly clowns tear
From ear
To ear
To down there

Just a cardboard nameplate left
On her circus office door
Headstone to the bereft
In marker pen
Reads out loud, folks once more:
"Out, out, out to lunch"

Let's drink to the salt of the earth
Let's drink to the salt of the earth
Let's drink with salty tears
And vow.
To at least … try,
To end homelessness,

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